


Side by Side

by StellarLibraryLady



Series: Frank and Sammy [3]
Category: Actors RPF
Genre: AU, Actors, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Friendship, Hollywood Legends, M/M, Movie Stars, One Shot, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Show Business, The Rat Pack, real person fiction - Freeform, singers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 22:13:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8262212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellarLibraryLady/pseuds/StellarLibraryLady
Summary: William Shatner meets Frank Sinatra on the set of a low-budget Western.  An established actor gives some good pointers to someone on the way up about show business and friendship.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For four great entertainers and unique personalities. Our world would have less color and depth in it now if they had chosen to be plumbers or college professors or something other than entertainers. Our cultural heritage and national image would even be different. Thanks for the impact you had on us, guys, and thanks for the memories!

“Mind if I sit here?” the tall, husky, too handsome man in cowboy gear asked as he looked down at the gaunt, world-weary man dressed also in jeans and vest over long sleeve shirt. Scuffed boots and sweat-stained hats completed their ensembles. Both outfits were right out of Wardrobe from the low-budget Western they were doing. "Our next scene is being set up. It'll take awhile."

“Pull up a cactus and take a load off.”

“Thanks. There sure are a lot more cacti than chairs around here,” the younger man said as he offered his hand. “Bill Shatner here.”

“Hey, there, Bucko, Frank Sinatra,” he said extending his hand, also.

“I know. I’ve caught your show in Vegas.” Shatner said as he sat down. “When I could afford it.”

Sinatra frowned. “Do I know you? You look familiar.”

Shatner grinned. “Outside of being part of that barroom brawl we filmed yesterday? Where I landed so ingloriously on my ass and ruined the shot?“

“Nah. I‘ve seen you somewhere else.”

“Probably on television. I was on a show that will soon be forgotten. I played Captain Kirk on Star Trek.”

“Oh, yeah! That’s where I’ve seen you! My kids used to watch it.”

“Yeah!” Shatner noted with a snort of derision. “That was part of the trouble! Kids have no buying power! The show was supposed to last at least five years! We were supposed to be on a five year mission to explore space. A Wagon Train of the Cosmos, no less! Damned thing lasted only three,” he said in disgust. “The Enterprise crew is stranded somewhere out there beyond some Nebula zone, I expect, probably wondering when they can get beamed out of there.”

“The Enterprise?”

“Boy, you really didn’t see that show, did you? That was our spaceship. A Starship, no less! Damn thing was mostly cardboard and papier mache.” He smirked. “Just like most of the cast.”

“Showing a little bitterness there, pally?”

“A little?! I’ve been told that I overact! That I talk in explanation points! Can you imagine that?!”

Sinatra felt a tiny grin tug at his lips. Couldn't this guy see it? Sinatra was intrigued. He decided to play along. “Beats the hell out of me, Bucko.”

"I trained as a stage actor up in Canada, see? That's where I did most of my early work, so that's where I'm most comfortable. And I know one thing. I've got to exaggerate everything up on the stage, or else I don't make an impression on the audience! Make up, projection, motions, everything has to be overdone! But I have to do that so Joe Blow clear back in the fifty-ninth row, or however far back in hell he's sitting, can see my face and hear me! He paid twelve fifty apiece for tickets for himself and his wife for their anniversary, so he's feeling like a big spender. The least he should be able to do is to see and hear that damn actor up on that stage!"

"I understand. But you're working in different mediums now. You might want to turn it down a notch for television and the movies. Otherwise, Joe Blow is gonna feel like he's being bombarded. You're going to knock him right out of that plastic covered recliner. Subtly, Bucko. Try that for a change."

"I've heard that before."

"I noticed in the 'Star Trek' television show that sometimes you got to emoting, and I wondered what in the hell you were supposed to be doing that for. I doubted if the writer had come up with that scene stealing for you. Sometimes, it was just plain over-acting, and it stopped the flow of the show. I got to watching you, wondering what you'd come up with next to hog the camera or steal lines or upstage another actor."

“There's a reason for that. I was supposed to be the star of the damned thing! That's what I believed when I was hired. Turns out other actors were told it was an ensemble, or all star, cast. And my agent said it would make me a star! Star, hell! I’m living in a damn pickup camper now! Is that how a superstar is supposed to get around, I ask you?!”

Sinatra should leave, but he was fascinated. This was the most genuine guy he’d met in awhile. Conceited. Arrogant. Cocksure. All true. But straightforward. Funny, even. And genuine to the core. What you saw was what you got. This guy was going places. The guy might not be convinced of it, but Sinatra was. The guy had that certain something, that elusive star quality, that would elevate him to the top. But he was going to bitch and snort about it all along the way.

“I’m a stage actor. Would you believe that?! I’m from Montreal. And now I’m out here.” He looked around at the bleak, dry landscape. “Out in the sagebrush! Out in God’s country! Hell, He’d be the only one who would want it!”

“So, how come you’re out here, anyway?”

“Oh, the play I was in in Phoenix is on hiatus, and a buddy of mine got me this gig. He knows I like to pick up work wherever I can get it. He says I’m a work-alcoholic, but he knows I’ve got my ass in a bind. I’ve got about a dozen people waiting for my paycheck.” Shatner looked away without seeing the arid scenery around him. “Some of them are even related to me.” He looked back at Sinatra. “One of my daughters needs braces. But that’s okay. Anything for my girls. That’s my rule.” He snorted. “And my ex-wife knows it, too! Sometimes I think I’m even supporting that lazy bum who’s living with her! He‘s not getting by on his beauty! Or his brains!” He turned away again in disgust. “His talents lie somewhere south of his belt buckle.” He looked back at Sinatra with an ironic smile. “IF you know what I mean.” 

Sinatra grinned back. “That I do, Bucko.“ The bastard was okay, Sinatra decided. Like Sinatra said, genuine. And taking care of way too many more people than he should be. Like Shatner said, his little girls were okay. Anything for the daughters. Sinatra believed that, also. A man took care of his own. But those other blood suckers! Sinatra could relate. He had enough of those in his life, too. 

“I’m out here, too, because of a buddy,” Sinatra said. “He thought if I would appear in a few scenes, it would give his movie some class. What could I say? I love the little black bastard. I’d do anything for him.”

“You mean Sammy Davis, Jr.?” Shatner asked with pointed interest.

“Yeah. Got a problem with him?” Sinatra asked with an edge to his voice.

Shatner pulled back with his hands up. “Not me! I think he’s the greatest! In fact, if I had the money, I’d go to his show in Vegas, even before I’d go to yours.”

Sinatra gave him a level stare. “You aren’t playing the game right, Bucko. You’re supposed to kiss up to me.”

Shatner gave him a level look back. “Why? I figure my mouth doesn’t fit your ass the way you’d like it.”

“Oh, I think I’d like it just fine, pretty boy.”

“You can’t afford me, Sinatra.”

“Probably not.” Then he crooned: “But I can dream, can’t I?”

Shatner started to sputter with laughter. “My own private concert! From Frank Sinatra, no less! When did you catch on I just pulling your leg?!”

Sinatra grinned. “I won that pissing contest, Bucko. And don’t you forget it.”

“I won’t, Mr. Sinatra.”

Sinatra pointed a finger at Shatner. “And the next time you call me that, you’re in trouble with me.”

“Why? It’s your name.”

“To you, I’m Frank. Got it?” he said gruffly.

Shatner grinned. “Yes, sir.”

“None of that shit, either!”

Shatner‘s grin got bigger. “Gotcha. Frank.”

“That’s better. You say a buddy got you this gig? Who is he?”

“One of the Indians. Well, the main one, I guess.”

Sinatra frowned. “Sammy’s co-star?” He snapped his fingers together several times. “What’s his name? I forget.”

“You’re the only one who has,” Shatner grumbled. “It’s Leonard Nimoy.”

“That doesn’t sound like any Indian I’ve ever heard of. Shouldn’t he be James Painted Feather, or something colorful like that?”

“Lenny’s got this look about him, see? He can play Indians or Mongols, any swarthy ethnic types like that. He could play an Eskimo even, I expect, but he’s probably too damn tall. I met an Eskimo family once, and my wife was taller than the father.”

“Swarthy, you say? Must be an ugly mutt, then.“

“Yeah,“ Shatner agreed with envy in his voice. “Lenny and I have some of the same ethnic background, Ukrainian, but I turned out too pretty. He’ll be able to make a career out of being a character actor if he wants for as long as he wants. But my time as a leading man is limited. Beauty is short lived, but ugly is forever.”

Sinatra laughed. “You must think a lot of this guy!”

“Not really.”

“You’re jealous of him, then.”

“I’d have a reason to be! I was supposed to be the star of that damn space epic!”

“Hold it a minute. Who did this Nimoy play on that show?”

“Mr. Spock,” Shatner said with disgust.

“Hey! I know him! Old pointy-ears! Is he the one who was old pointy-ears?!”

“Yeah,” Shatner muttered and crossed his arms.

“I remember him,” Sinatra said with a chuckle. “I loved that bastard!”

“Yeah, you, and everyone else!” Shatner muttered again.

“Don’t knock it, Bucko,” Sinatra said, suddenly seriously.

“Why not?”

“He saved the show. And your sorry ass. He kept the show running as long as it did because of him. That kept the potatoes on the table and the braces on the kids‘ teeth for all of you.”

Shatner uncrossed his arms. “I never thought of it that way.”

“Never bite the hand of the guy bringing the audience to the screen or the studio or wherever, because you’ll wind up biting your own hand. And that hurts, pally.”

“Well, you’re right there. That’s a tough pill to swallow, though.“

“Well, swallow it. The idea is to survive in this business. Anyway you can. Through anybody you can. Got it?“

“I’m beginning to see that. Maybe I’d better see how many more asses my mouth would fit just right.“

“And don’t go compromising yourself, either!“

“Yes, sir. Frank,“ Shatner said in awe of the sudden anger sparked in Sinatra’s eyes. The only other time Shatner had seen Sinatra get angry was when he was going to defend Sammy Davis, Jr. Was Sinatra one of those people who would take about anything anyone said about him, but heaven help the person who said something bad about someone he liked? That made Shatner feel in awe the second time in that many moments. Did that mean that Sinatra liked him? He’d always heard it was very nice having Frank Sinatra as a friend. But you didn’t want him for an enemy, as certain people in New Jersey had learned the hard way. 

Sinatra leaned back with the sleepy look on his face again. “So, you’re in this T. V. show with the pointy-eared bastard. Go on.“

“Anyway, when I was hired, I understood that I was supposed to be the star. The other main ones in the cast were told it was supposed to be an ensemble. That didn’t help, because none of us knew what the other people knew. Then the pointy-eared bastard started getting all of this fan mail. He was carrying the show. That didn’t set too well with me. So you can see why it didn‘t go too well between him and me. Talk about your pissing contests!”

“But now it’s over, and you’ve moved on, away from each other.”

“Except for this gig. I don’t know why he thought to call me. Why would he want to keep any sort of relationship going with me?” He thought for a moment, then started to grin. “We did have our moments, though, on that show.” His eyes sparkled. “I’ve been known to pull a few pranks, in my day.”

“No shit,” Sinatra said with a grin.

“I guess I gave the guy a hard time, but he lived through it. He even gave me some sass back. He knew what a load I was carrying. He was always supportive that way. Does that make sense?”

“Maybe he liked you and wanted to help.”

“Yeah! Like I’ve ever given him anything to like! Tolerating is one thing, liking is another!”

“Well, you haven’t given me much, either. And I like you.”

“No shit?”

“No shit. But I think you knew that.”

Shatner grinned. “I sensed it.” He frowned. “But this Nimoy. I can’t figure him out. He’s an enigma.”

Sinatra grinned. “Like Spock?”

Shatner looked exasperated. “Exactly like Spock!”

“I’m gonna give you some advice, Bucko. Don’t leave the pointy-eared bastard behind. I think you’ll regret it if you do. He could be a great friend to you, and I think you‘ve never had many of those. Right?”

“Are you my guardian angel, or something?”

Sinatra laughed. “No. Just a guy who’s been there. This Nimoy sounds like the real thing. A friend. In this business, you’ve got to recognize them. Like the song says, ‘we‘ll travel the road, sharing the load, side by side.’ Make sure you pick well who travels beside you.”

“There is this strange thing going on.”

“Oh?”

“The show, Star Trek, it isn’t dying. It went into syndication, and the fans aren’t letting it die. They are even demanding to have conventions based on Star Trek. They want us original cast members appearing at these conventions, especially we main three guys: Lenny, Dee, and me. What do you think?”

“Sounds like Opportunity knocking. Don’t bite that hand, either.”

“We might all get to know each other better if we’re away from the filming of the show and just have to concern ourselves with the conventions.” He looked at Sinatra with shining eyes. “Who knows what it will mean?”

“That’s the spirit, Bucko.”

Shatner looked away. “I think it’s time for the scene where the Indians attack the fort.” He jumped to his feet. “Here’s my chance to agonize for the cameras as I ‘die‘ gallantly!”

“Good luck, pally,” Sinatra said as Shatner rushed away.

Shatner ran about twenty feet, then stopped and looked back at Sinatra. “Hey, Frank!” he called.

“Yeah?”

He turned away, looked over his shoulder, bent so he was presenting his butt to Sinatra, and gave him a flirty wink. “For you, Frank! Free!”

Sinatra gave him a tired grin laced with admiration. “I’ll remember, Bucko! Now, go shoot some Indians!”

“You’ll know which one will be in my sights first, don‘t you?! The guy who looks suspiciously Ukrainian!”

“You may hate the bastard now, Bucko!” Sinatra shot back. “But you better protect his sorry ass! He’s your meal ticket!”

“Then I’ll step in front of the bullet meant for him! Maybe he‘ll be impressed as hell!” 

Sinatra laughed. “That’s the spirit, Bucko!“

Shatner winked and threw Sinatra a kiss. “See you in the movies, Frank!”

Sinatra gave him a smile back with all of his teeth showing. “I‘ll be looking for you there someday, too, Bucko!”

Yep! That mouthy bastard was going places, all right! Sinatra knew one thing for damned sure. They’d both make it in the movies. And they’d both be big.

**Author's Note:**

> No low-budget Western was ever filmed starring Sammy Davis, Jr. and Leonard Nimoy with Frank Sinatra and William Shatner appearing as extras. Wouldn't that have been interesting, though? It would be a cult classic now.
> 
> I own nothing of the Frank Sinatra estate or of the William Shatner Enterprises. I also do not not own the song "Side by Side" or anything dealing with Star Trek.


End file.
